


Please, Turn Around

by darkmagician



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Character Death, M/M, POV Second Person, hisoka cries a lot i dont care he's sensitive, save each other pls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:52:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmagician/pseuds/darkmagician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how many lifetimes it takes, you and him are inevitable.</p><p>Five times Hisoka and Illumi couldn't find each other in time, and one time they finally did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please, Turn Around

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note on the tags, the character deaths aren't a warning because it's reincarnation they're all A-OK it's fine. Also, the attempted rape is not super graphic but it's still there.
> 
> I... am in love with hisoillu. The time periods are really vague in all of these they could have taken place in 1930 or 2010 it doesn't matter. This is so fucking emo and mushy and cliché I don't give a single fuck. It's probably not totally in character but they're desperate ok who even knows anymore I'm fine with it.

1

.

You see black waves and starless nights when you close your eyes.

You reach out your hand to run your fingers through the waves. They're otherworldly, something that no artist could ever paint or poet could ever describe. They exist only behind your eyes. You can physically  _feel_ them on your hands, on your neck, in your memory. They're phantom pains that cause you constant ache. You don't know how you remember them, but you do. You remember you weren't able to understand how you could possibly breathe in and kiss these waves without drowning, but then you realized you always were.

You reach out your hand to feel around for any stars you might be missing. You feel nothing, just pure darkness, the kind that should terrify you but has only ever made you long to reach deeper. You remember the intensity of this darkness, of how it would pull you in and excite you, how you would see it brighten on the rare moments that a star passed through. You feel like might have thrown a few of those stars but you're not completely sure.

You reach out your hand, you've reached out a million times, but the feeling is always fleeting. You can never feel for too long, because your mind never lets you. You don't know whether your head is trying to bring you back to Earth or your heart is trying to protect you from something you can't reach, but you wish they would let you bury yourself in the dark because it's all that you have.

You live in a studio apartment with only a goldfish to keep you company. You never gave it a name because you felt like it would die within days but it's been months and it's still there. You kind of want it to die sometimes just so you don't have to take care of another living thing anymore, but it's all that prevents you from being truly alone. You still won't give it a name though.

You work at a café and flirt with nearly every customer. You don't do it because you're confident in yourself, but because it usually brightens people's days and as alone as you are, you like to put a smile on people's faces. You've gotten in trouble before with the uptight ones, but most of them appreciate it. Especially the little old ladies who you know haven't been called beautiful in way too long. Making people smile is the only reminder you have that you're still able to have normal and somewhat pleasant human interaction. You spend so much time in the dark that sometimes you forget if you're able to.

You don't consider intimacy a normal or somewhat pleasant human interaction, although you still turn to sex whenever you feel especially lost, which is nearly always. It's not difficult for you to find someone willing to sleep with you, and people seem to accept that you won't give them your name and you don't want to know theirs. Maybe they're like you, so utterly alone that they don't care who it is they spend the night with, as long as they're able. Or maybe they just want to be with you in any way that you'll have them. But you couldn't care less about the people you fuck. You don't hear their voices, you don't see them under you, you only hear the rush of the waves and see the darkness behind your eyes. You always want to call out a name, but you can never remember the letters or the way it should taste on your tongue. Whenever you realize that this one isn't the time you're going to remember who to call out to, you feel as though a year of your life has been erased from the pain. You open your mouth but no sound ever comes out. You always leave without a second glance and with a tight chest. Still, you keep trying in hopes that one day you will remember, or the hurt ends up erasing all of the years you have left, whichever comes first.

You're empty inside and you know the darkness you keep trying to reach is the reason why; that beautiful,  _beautiful_ , darkness without a name. You want it to take you, ever since you could breathe air you've needed it to take you. You want to taste it and feel it and live in it, you know you have before, you just want it again, even for a moment.

_Please, come and find me..._

You live this life without ever being found.

 

 

2

.

You can never stay in one place for too long.

You're always moving, it's like you're running away from some undeniable truth that you can't face because you know the possibility of reaching it is nonexistent. You don't want to know the reason you're running because you know it will destroy you. So you just keep moving.

Sometimes you travel on foot but you mostly go by train. You love taking the train. It serves as a reminder that there's always something else, something you haven't seen or experienced. The train is full of people with their own stories that are more interesting or more boring than yours. You don't have much of a story to tell besides the fact that you've spent your whole life trying to escape something that you know will tear you apart.

Whenever you ride the train, you spend your time making up stories of the people you see. It's what you're currently doing as you hear the background music of rain softly hitting the windows. You see a woman asleep with a little boy at her side, holding her so tight that you could see the whites of his knuckles, and you imagine that she's the only thing he has. You see an elderly couple laughing and competing to see which of their chosen rain droplets will cross the window first, and you imagine that they've known each other their whole lives and have not regretted a single moment. You see a man looking at his sleeping friend with love in his eyes that he's trying so hard to hide but is so very obvious to you, and you imagine that he wishes his friend would turn his head and warm his shoulder so he could pretend for a moment that he feels the same way.

You see a boy with white hair and blue eyes looking out the window with a smile on his face, and you don't know what to imagine. Your mind is at a blank. This has never happened to you before but there's something about this boy that scares you, like he knows and has seen too much. He looks back at you and holds your gaze, and you don't look away because as much as he scares you, he intrigues you even more.

The boy walks over and sits across from you, and now you're especially curious because what kind of boy could walk up so confidently to a stranger on a train as though you've known each other for years? You're curious but you feel slight panic because you feel yourself approaching something but you're not sure what that is and how this boy relates.

"Why are you on this train."

The boy breaks the silence with this question said like a statement, and it surprises you that this is the question he chose to start with.

"I'm traveling."

The boy looks at you with clear and open eyes that hide nothing, and you find yourself lost in them, seeing more than just blue, but darkness too and you feel your heart jump.

"Why are you traveling."

He says it as a statement again, and you're shocked with how much this boy understands. His eyes never leave yours and you're shaking inside.

"I'm running away from something."

The boy seems satisfied and he finally breaks your gaze, allowing you to breathe. He's looking out the window with a smile on his face again, so you ask him the same thing because you want to try to understand him the way he seems to understand you. "Why are _you_ traveling?"

He closes his eyes for a moment, like he's picturing something and you wonder what could make him so happy. "I'm running toward something."

You spend the rest of your time staring at his happy face looking out the window, but he doesn't seem to mind. Maybe he knows that you're attempting to figure him out and he thinks it's funny that you even think you can try. But you need to figure him out, you need to understand why that smile is so important to you and why the darkness in his eyes reminds you of something else.

When the train stops, you see the boy get up and you're scared because you don't want to let him go, not when you still don't know what he is. He waves goodbye to you before he walks off the train and you can't breathe. 

You wonder why you feel an ache as he goes, why you're reaching out your hand to him like he'll save you, why your vision is suddenly blurry.

You feel your heart shatter into pieces when you're finally struck with a rush of memories and feelings, and the truth: this time, the boy is as close as you're ever going to get to  _him_.

You put your face in your hands to try and muffle your cries.

You live this life knowing the truth and running away faster because of it.

 

  

3

.

You spend every possible day trying to reach him.

This time, you're not waiting in emptiness or running away. You know the darkness you've been yearning for is a person that you need to find. You can't let him slip away, because you realize he's probably been just as lost as you and that hurts even more than being alone for lifetimes.

You travel with a purpose, trusting any instinct you have and following its direction. You scan crowds and rarely sleep in hopes that you'll see him. You never do, but you keep trying because you owe it to him.

You're in a bar in a city by the ocean when it happens. You're drowning away your sorrows in alcohol because sometimes the pain is too much to bear alone, when all of a sudden you feel a sense of urgency and terror that fills your lungs and soul. You've never felt this before and you know that it means you're close, that he's right there within reach but there's something wrong and you don't want to think about the reason why. 

You topple the bar stool over as you rush outside, but it's so dark you don't know where to look. You all of a sudden see a car racing down the street, but you don't notice the man in the way until he is hit.

You don't realize you're moving until you hear a man screaming for someone to call an ambulance. But you can't move, you hope someone else will because you can't even breathe. The panic you felt only a few moments ago is gone, replaced by a level of emptiness that you have never known to be possible. You don't want to look but you've spent your whole life searching, and other lifetimes too scared to, so you know you have to.

You look down and see a crumpled body, and long black hair illuminated by the car headlights.

You try to scream but you're choking and no sound comes out. You want to touch him but you can't move because you're dying inside. You don't do anything until you hear the ambulance come and they're taking him away, you can't let them take him away, not after you've waited so long just to see him. You're finally able to scream and it fees like you're tearing your throat apart. People are trying to hold you back from going to him, but you're stronger and push them to the ground. You're running to him but you suddenly stop when you see the side of his face, this time illuminated by the light coming from inside the ambulance.  

There's blood on his cheek and he's lifeless, but he's so damn beautiful you can't take it. Your face crumples and you scream and grab at your hair because there's nothing else you can do. He's everything to you and you still couldn't find him. You never got to see him smile, or hold him, or tell him you've always needed him, even the times when you didn't realize it was him.

You wish you didn't know that he was trying to run toward you.

You live this life haunted by black waves on asphalt. 

 

 

4

.

You don't know why you're awake at 1:34 AM but here you are.

You're walking down the street because your feet can't stay still and are telling you which way to go.

You see two people struggling in an alley, and you immediately run over, as though your body was prepared for this moment.

The man holding on to the other person turns around to face you as he hears your feet echo in the shadows, and you feel the blood coursing through your veins freeze. 

It's dark, so you can't see their faces, but you see waist-length dark hair on the man he's holding and you know, you absolutely  _know_ , that means something to you. You're hit with the understanding that he's important. You don't know why this time you didn't even know you were missing something, but you realize now that nothing before this moment has ever mattered.

"Walk. Away."

You almost forgot about the other man until he spoke, but once he does, you are brought back out of your mind. The long-haired man is blindfolded and the man is covering his mouth and holding his arms behind his back. He's squirming violently and trying to scream, and you're terrified seeing him like this. But you've also never felt more seething hatred towards another person in your life.

"Get away from him."

You say it with as much venom and strength you can find in yourself; you try to control your voice but you hear it shaking. The second you speak, you see the long-haired man stop moving instantly, as though his veins have frozen over too. There's another brief moment before he starts moving wildly and screaming so hard that the man holding him falters for a moment, causing his mouth to be uncovered and for his piercing cry to escape.

"NO -"

You immediately reach out toward him when you hear him cry out, but the other man cuts him off by taking a gun out and putting it in his mouth.

"If you make one more fucking sound," then he's looking at you and you know you could kill him with your bare hands if you had the opportunity, "or if  _you_ take one more step, I'm killing this bitch."

You don't know what you're going to do to save him, because you  _are going to save him_. You see him like this and you're so fucking mad that this is the first time the universe decided you should see or think of him, that he's so scared and not safe and warm like he should be. You wonder if maybe it's the same for him and that's why he was so desperate when he heard your voice. It doesn't even matter though, all that you need is for him to be safe.

You wish he could see you so he would know you'll do anything.

"Good boys. Now, since you want to join us so bad, how about you get on your knees too so you can both take me in your mouths."

You want to grab the man by the throat and rip him apart with just your fingernails.

But, you can use this.

"If you take the gun out of his mouth, you can fuck me from behind."

You feel disgusting even saying it, but you need to save him. You hear him whimper quietly since it's all that he can do, but you're only looking at the man holding the gun, seeing the lust in his eyes and his body shiver and it takes everything in you not to run up and drag his face across the brick wall.

He looks you up and down and licks his lips like he's in some fucking porno. "Deal." He looks back at the other man and you want to rip his eyes out for thinking he can ever even glance at him. "If you move or make a sound, I'm going to shoot you."

He takes the gun out of his mouth and places it next to his feet; you feel the breath come out of your lungs in relief. You see him push the long-haired man down face-first and tell him to stay put, and you can't wait until you see this man dead on the ground.

The man you need to save is crying and he's still blindfolded and you wish you could see his eyes and touch him for a moment.

As you get on your knees, you almost laugh out loud because the vile man behind you, who is currently unzipping his pants and groaning like a fucking animal in heat, never once noticed the shard of glass lying inches away from them.

You slowly reach for the piece of glass, then quickly turn to face the man the moment he puts his hands on you. You see the shock on his face as you stab him in the gut repeatedly. You didn't think you could ever be this happy to feel someone's blood pour out of them, but you are and you can't stop.

You don't stop until you hear a voice scream behind you. You look down and realize you're on top of the man you were stabbing, but you're confused because he's choking on a laugh before he closes his eyes for good. You try to stand up to go back to the other man, to see why he screamed and to make sure he's ok and to finally,  _finally_ , touch him after so long.

You don't even get to see the long-haired man's face, to see the eyes you've been missing for forever without realizing it, because you fall back to the ground before you can even straighten out your knees.

You feel sharp and unbearable pain rushing throughout your chest, your whole body, and you understand now why the bastard was laughing.

You know you won't survive a gunshot to the chest, not from this close, but you're happy. If nothing else, you got to see him, even in the dark, and you know he exists, even for a few moments. You saved him, which is more than you could ever do before. This time you got close to him, you got to see him breathe, even though he was terrified and he's hurting so much worse than you right now (you know because you're certain you've watched him die before and you don't think you can ever do it again) so you will accept death like it's nothing, because it _is_ nothing compared to the lifetimes you've had without him.

You die with a smile on your face, feeling long hair and drops of water fall against your cheek.

You live this life by ending it for him.

 

 

5

.

You have never been able to see.

Whenever you went to the doctors, they never knew the reason why you were blind, and you didn't particularly care what the reason was since you had to deal with it anyways.

But you don't think there is a medical reason for why you can't see, it's something bigger than science can explain. Your mind comes up with all of these stories and images, and you feel so strongly that the only reason you can see these things is because you're blind. So, in a way, you're grateful for your imagination making up for what you can't see.

At least, you think it's your imagination. It feels so real sometimes that you're not sure. All you ever see is rolling hills and trees, monsters that you have no problem defeating, playing cards that can kill, aura surrounding people's bodies, and being so high in the sky that you feel like you can touch the clouds.

But most of all, you see a man with long hair by your side and black eyes that you always want to dive into. You hold hands when he lets you, you bury your nose in his hair as you hold him close when you sleep because he's always more cuddly when he's tired, you pick him flowers and see his eyes shine briefly like a star passed through them, you watch the way he fights and you swear you've never seen anyone look so graceful and beautiful while killing someone, you listen hard when he speaks because it always means something, you see that he pretends to be ok just like you do but you keep each other from falling apart in your own ways.

Your imagination feels so vivid, the emotions and touches so real, you wonder if it actually all happened once. 

Your neighbor, a young boy who you know to have spiky hair and a constant smile, visits you sometimes. You know it's not because he feels sorry for you, but because he genuinely enjoys listening to you talk about the stories in your head. He's the only real friend you have, which should probably be embarrassing but has only ever been comforting to you.

You hear a knock on the door and you open without asking who it is because you know he always comes around this time. Plus, you can practically feel the happiness he emits through the barrier of the door, which is nothing compared to when he breaks through under your arm to take his usual seat on your couch.

"Hello, Gon. How was school today?" you say as you make your way back to the side of the couch Gon never sits on. 

"The same as always, but I actually made a friend today! He's kind of weird but I like him anyways."

You're brought back to your imagination with someone who looks like Gon and another you can't clearly see but who practically glows even with darkness inside of him. They are happy in your mind, and Gon is happy now, even more than usual if that's possible. You feel like it connects somehow but you keep it to yourself.

"I'm glad you found a friend besides me," you say with chuckle, but you can't help but worry he won't visit you as much now.

"Don't worry, I'm still going to visit you! Maybe he can come one day too! He'll probably like your stories."

_Probably not as much as you do, Gon, you're the only one who does._

"Do you want to hear another one?"

"Of course!"

You think for a while as you let your mind wander to the place you can see. Gon is used to this and waits as patiently as he can, but you can feel him practically bursting at the seams.

"There are two men who work together. Even they don't know how they came to be, but they fit together too well."

You don't know why you're telling Gon about you and the man with the long hair, you've never spoken about him out loud before, but maybe you're finally bursting at the seams too.

"One of them seems expressionless, but the other knows that isn't true. He's seen him smile and cry and fume, but he does it so quietly and subtly that only the other man has ever noticed. They kill and come back together with someone else's blood on their hands, but that's who they are. They're both messed up but it doesn't matter. They don't ever voice what they are to each other, but they both know. They danced once when they had too much to drink, and they ended the night with their heads resting against each other on the couch. One woke up to a ridiculous smile because the other couldn't believe he was with something so beautiful. He flicked the other's nose after he voiced his thoughts out loud, but he only smiled harder. I couldn't... help it when I was around him... _I_ couldn't... help -"

You're cut off by the feeling of a hand on your shoulder and you realize you're shaking; you realize you're crying when you feel Gon's tiny fingers wipe the tears off your cheeks.

"It's ok, Hisoka. You don't have to say any more."

You reach your hands out to find Gon's shoulders and hold him close as you cry and he rubs your back. You feel like such a child, but you can't help feeling comforted by him. You've felt emotional over your stories before, but never like this, especially not in front of Gon. If it had to happen at all though, you're glad it was with him.

It felt all the more heartbreaking and real saying it out loud. It's like you're physically holding the longing and the ache for something that you can never hold yourself. Something you can never see even if you had the ability to.

You calm down after a few minutes and you separate yourself from Gon, only to have him sit right next to you and put his small, gentle hand back on yours.

"That was a beautiful story, Hisoka."

You wish it wasn't just a story, but you're also scared that it's not. 

"Yeah... It was."

You live this life in a fantasy because you can see nothing else. 

 

 

+1

.

You love stargazing.

Whenever you can't sleep, you walk to the park near your home, lay out a blanket, and spend hours watching the stars twinkle and the moon shine. On more than one occasion, you've fallen asleep and woken up to birds poking your face or people staring at you, but it's all worth it.

The stars make you happy and sad at the same time, which is why you love watching them so much. They always remind you that there's something more, but they also remind you that they are so out of reach. 

You have a strange feeling every time you spend your nights with them, like you've seen them before; not in the sky, but in something even more amazing.   

You're having another restless night, and feel desperate in your need to be with the stars tonight, so you head over to the park, promising yourself you won't look at the sky until you lie down on your blanket.

When you reach the edge of the park, you notice a figure standing on the grass by the swings, looking at the sky, which surprises you because you never see anyone when you come out here.

You feel something pulling you in the figure's direction, and you don't understand it, but you feel like you've been pulled to this very moment for your entire life. Your walk turns into a jog when the figure turns around and it turns into a run when you see the darkness run toward you too.

You both slow down as you approach each other, the single streetlamp and the moonlight illuminating both of your faces.

When you look into his eyes -  _oh dear God_ , when you  _finally_ look into his eyes - you see everything shining back.

You see the stars that you've reached out for so desperately, you see the touches that you've missed, you see the smiles that you've caused, you see the love that has followed you both around for lifetimes. And you can't believe he's here...  _he's here_.

You're staring at him with wonder and water in your eyes, with your eyebrows scrunched together and your mouth moving but no words coming out. He's staring back at you with the same wonder and like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and you can't believe he's emoting so much on his face, you don't think you'll ever be able to forget this moment in any future lifetimes. But you hope with everything you have that this will be the last.

You slowly reach out a shaking hand to touch his face and you fall against him when you make contact, wrapping your arms around him as he does the same around you. You both fall to your knees, and you're holding each other so tight, but it's still not enough. You don't think it'll ever be enough. Your hands travel to touch every part of him, needing to make sure he's real, needing to feel him and hold him until you've made up for all your lifetimes apart. 

He leans to the side to lay together on the grass, never once separating from your embrace. You're both crying and you're saying his name over and over ( _Illumi, Illumi, Illumi_ ) as he holds you tighter each time you do. You feel his hands run up and down your back and his wet tears on your shirt as he kisses your neck. You run your fingers through his hair and try to inhale it like it's the only thing keeping you from dying. You kiss the waves and you're drowning in him and you're so unbelievably happy that you are.

He pulls away slightly after what feels like hours, only to kiss your lips gently. You push back against his lips, and when he lifts a hand to pull you in closer, fresh tears pour out of your eyes because you can't imagine how you ever survived without this.

He starts to kiss your cheeks and nose and every part of you he can find. Your hand is in his hair as you do the same. He tastes just like you remember him and you never want to stop. You pull away and smile when you see him still trying to kiss your skin. You place your forehead against his and close your eyes for a moment before you open them to see that his are closed. You kiss each one.

"I finally found you."

Your voice is shaking, but your smile is wider than it has ever been in any lifetime. 

He opens his eyes, and you see stars dancing in them.

"Me too."

You don't look up at the sky because you don't need to anymore.

.

.

.

You live this life with him.


End file.
